Mother of Liberal Arts Student Mentally Preparing Self For Yet Another Mother’s Day Poem

Posted on by James Knapp

FROSTBURG, Md. — Local mom Beverly Hurd, whose son graduated with a creative writing degree more than a decade ago, is repeating her annual routine of practiced enthusiasm for her adult child’s latest Mother’s Day writing project, proud but not that proud sources confirmed.

“I go through this every year. My college graduate son gives me a very heartfelt poem he wrote about how much he loves me, right before explaining how yet another job interview fell through,” said Hurd. “I know it’s very sweet that he wants to give me a present and he’s just working with what he has, but a present I’d really like is if he paid me back any of the hundred grand I spent so that he could fuck around reading Kerouac for four years. Then the ‘World’s Best Mom’ poem he wrote for me a few years ago might actually be accurate, and also completely unnecessary.”

Mrs. Hurd’s special little man, Anthony, detailed his poetic process.

“Every year I write my mom a poem, and every year she thinks it’s the best. But this year is definitely gonna be the best ever,” said the young Hurd while inexplicably rhyming “I love you, mom” with “you’re the bomb!” “I know that I really don’t have a lot to offer as a son, so I really have to keep on top of my game as a poet.”

Ronald Hurd, patriarch of the Hurd family, expressed his complete disinterest with the Mother’s Day poem tradition.

“Every year [Beverly] works herself into some kind of state over this poem that the boy writes, and I just don’t get it. I never get any poems, so what’s the big deal?” explained Mr. Hurd while studiously observing all traffic laws. “Obviously I love them both and they’re just doing their best, but until the Father’s Day comes where I don’t get gifted a tie that was clearly shoplifted, no amount of student debt could make me interested in this nonsense.”

When reached for comment, representatives from Anthony Hurd’s university requested that the name of their college not appear in this article.

Man Dreading First Mother’s Day Since Losing Mom To QAnon

Posted on by Sari Beliak

PHOENIX — Anticipating a difficult day for himself and his siblings, local man Lucas Ruddy was reportedly dreading his first Mother’s Day since losing his mother to QAnon, sources close to Ruddy confirmed.

“My siblings will probably come over and we’ll do something low-key together to get through the day, but I know it’s gonna be a struggle because it’s barely been a year since losing Mom to Q,” said Ruddy. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for everyone who’s lucky enough to spend the day with their mom without hearing long-winded rants about child sex-trafficking rings and the deep state, but it’s a tough day for so many of us.”

“I’d give anything to be able to pick up the phone and talk to her again, but I know that’s not possible because she’ll just start shouting about George Soros or nanobots or whatever the fuck. Plus, she won’t talk on the phone anymore because she’s afraid of 5G,” he added.

Ruddy’s sister Amanda Pasley said she planned to hang out with her brothers and help each other get through the holiday.

“I’m aiming to stay off social media today because I know it’s going to be too painful seeing all of Mom’s posts about Q drops and the hoax virus,” said Pasley. “I hope Mom knew how much we all loved her before she fell down the rabbit hole of QAnon ramblings. I’m just glad she’s no longer making us suffer by sharing anti-Semitic memes and YouTube videos about chemtrails. Today is a good reminder to cherish the time you have with your loved ones, because you never know when they’re gonna get sucked into some bullshit conspiracy theory message board.”

For others who may be experiencing loss this holiday, experts recommend reaching out to friends and family who can offer support.

“It may be helpful to log off for a few days, and if possible, see if you can get your mom to do the same,” said grief counselor Milana Amares. “The holidays will never be the same once you’ve lost a loved one to an extremist cult, but it will get easier over time. Remember that you’re not alone. Tons of bored idiots fell for that nonsense.”

Despite the pain surrounding the day, Ruddy hoped being with family would alleviate some of the sadness surrounding the fact that his kids will never know their grandmother, as he won’t allow her around them.

Opinion: I’m Not Mad or Disappointed. I Just Plain Don’t Like My Kid

Posted on by James Knapp

Alright, so I know I’m probably gonna get some pushback on this and, honestly, I get it. I know my kid is supposed to be the apple of my eye, perfect, unconditionally, no matter what they do. But the more I get to know him, I realize I just can’t escape it: my kid sucks.

It’s not like he’s a bad kid or anything. He doesn’t get in trouble at school or fuck with my old baseball trophies or anything. Really he’s just kind of a drag to be around.

I mean, I’ve tried to get along with the boy. A while ago I signed him up for Webelos and he took to it like a fish to water. Then I remembered that I hate camping, going to meetings, and that merit badges look pretty stupid, so I pulled him out real fast after that.

Now, I’m not some emotionless golem. I still love my kid. Well, maybe love is a strong word. Let’s just say I can see he probably has positive qualities… to other people… at a distance.

Look, the kid is a dull goon, and I’d like to see you find something in common with him.

I think if I really had to pinpoint something about him that sucks the most, it’s that he’s just kind of a know-it-all. Like the time I stole all that chemistry equipment and he kept hassling me about how the cops were already outside. They were, but I’m pretty sure he called them, or maybe they just tracked down that bookmobile I stole. Either way, he had a real attitude about it.

I don’t want to dislike my kid. I’d rather just be mad at him all the time. But at this point, there isn’t much I can do.

So next week I’m taking the boy to Vegas to see if anything out there can spark some modicum of interest in this child for me. If it doesn’t, I’ll just leave him in the desert. It’s probably best for both of us.

Mother’s Day Cameo from Bret the Hitman Hart Goes Underappreciated

Posted on by Dan Luberto

MADISON, Wis. — Local mom Helen Dupree is reportedly torn between feelings of disappointment, dejection and confusion after her son gifted her a Cameo message from wrestling legend Bret “The Hitman” Hart, sources close to the matriarch confirmed.

“I certainly appreciate that he actually remembered Mother’s Day this year, even though he said this counts for my birthday next month, too,” said Dupree. “My son’s a good boy and I love when he shares his interests with me, but I’ve never even heard of this Hitman. The guy seemed really agitated and sort of sweaty. He went on and on about how Vince McMahon is a scumbag and talked about Calgary wrestling history for about 30 minutes. I would have preferred just a card or flowers from Food Lion.”

Cameo, a service that allows fans to send messages through celebrities for a fee, has exploded in popularity in recent months, although this was son Matthew Dupree’s first time using it.

“This is the single greatest gift of all time,” said the younger Dupree. “Bret is one of the greatest technicians to ever step foot into the ring! I almost got her a message from New Jack but, come on, this is my mom we’re talking about. She deserves the best. I would have killed for something like this for my birthday but all my parents did was buy me a PS5, which is great, but didn’t exactly make history giving Stone Cold the Sharpshooter at Wrestlemania 13.”

WWE Hall of Famer Bret Hart admitted to feeling a sneaking suspicion that the gift wasn’t entirely for the benefit of the supportive mother.

“I definitely raised an eyebrow when I saw this come in as a ‘Mother’s Day Request’ but I figured maybe the kid’s mom had a crush on me in the ‘80s or something, and who am I to judge? I thought it’d be a nice change of pace from the usual marks in this app,” said the five-time WWE World Champion. “Once I saw a bunch of questions about the Montreal Screwjob and some invasive questions about my brother’s tragic death followed by ‘Can you also cut a promo on my boy Steve?’ I immediately felt bad for contributing to what I’m sure was a shitty Mother’s Day for her. I did my best to liven it up, but this isn’t really my thing.”

At press time, Mrs. Dupree’s husband Frank Dupree was hiding his intended gift: a Cameo from Roger Clemens discussing the finer details of the 2000 Subway Series broken bat incident with Mike Piazza.

‘90s One-Hit Wonder Doug Funnie Reveals Dark Origin Behind “Bangin’ on a Trash Can”

Posted on by Jay Chanoine

If you grew up in the nineties, the alternative rock radio hits of the day probably bring you back to things like eating Nic Nacs, bagging nematodes, and reading “Man-O-Steel Man” comic books. But for the artists behind those hits, the memories they represent can often be troubling reminders of difficult times, as we learned in a recent interview with Doug Funnie, the man behind the now classic “Bangin’ on a Trash Can.”

“I couldn’t believe how big it got. They played that shit in the mall food court like we were The Beets or something,” explained the songwriter. “But what most didn’t know is, I was singing about whoring myself out in seventh grade to buy smack.”

Funnie, now 47, still can’t believe the song made it on the radio at all. “The fuck did you think it was about? It’s called ‘Bangin’ on a Trash Can.’ You think ‘53rd & 3rd’ is just an ode to a four way intersection? It’s the label’s fault there was any confusion. They wouldn’t put the song out unless we changed the ‘cumming on a streetlight’ line.”

While the sudden success could have turned his life around, those close to Funnie remember it only worsening the situation.

“Just cuz he didn’t have to sell his tight, little khaki-clad ass for dope anymore didn’t mean things weren’t bad,” percussionist and former songwriting partner Skeeter Valentine recalls. “Things don’t get better when you give an addict Radio Disney money. When the wave started to crash, all he cared about was getting another hit. The Beets sued him for ripping off ‘I Need More Allowance.’ Few months later a security camera caught him beating the HONK-HONK out of his neighbor Mr. Dink. That was when we knew it was over.”

After the band walked away, Funnie made several attempts to reinvent himself and recapture his early success.

“I always liked the kid. He wrote catchy songs. But the banjo thing was never gonna last,” admitted former manager Beebe Bluff. “So we tried new looks, new styles. Scored a minor hit with ‘Wa Na Na’ under the name Jack Bandit, but by that time rock radio was dominated by west coast skate punk bands like Doctor Klotzenstein and The Klotzoid Zombies.”

As for where Doug Funnie is now, he’s back in Bluffington living a quiet life. He’s recently found some modest fame again with his successful independent comic series “Quail-Man.” He still enjoys playing the banjo and can occasionally be seen playing solo renditions of his classics at The Honker Burger.

Guy Who Doesn’t Follow You Back Must Want You Dead

Posted on by Jack Bravstein

SAN FRANCISCO — After liking, sharing, and commenting on his posts, it looks like your “new friend” from last week’s virtual open mic Chris Hardny is not going to follow you back on Twitter, you sadly confirmed.

“Things were going great at first: I sent him some private messages in the Zoom open mic, commenting on how overrated folk music was after this girl sang a song about her dead pet mouse,” you confessed, refreshing your Twitter feed with bloody thumbs. “I looked him up later that day and saw he had a Twitter account, so I followed him… but within minutes I knew something wasn’t right. This is how it always goes when someone doesn’t follow you back, you know? When I checked back several hours later, I knew he was lusting for me to be quartered by those coyotes down by the gas station.”

Hardny, who noticed that you followed him, believes you need to talk to a professional.

“I only follow people I know, and if he wants to follow me, that’s great… but he can’t be expecting me to reciprocate his manic obsession,” Hardny said, examining your extensive posts about Hentai and its legitimacy as a film genre. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy. I’m new in the area and could use some friends, but his aggressi… er, shit. I just liked one of his posts. I gotta go.”

Twitter representative Jason Fisk was ecstatic that the platform’s new algorithm was working so smoothly.

“We’ve been working hard to make sure our users accept and understand that when someone they believe they are equals with does not follow them back, it means they would rather see you flattened under an 18-wheeler after being ejected from a rolling vehicle instead of following you back,” Fisk explained. “The beta testing was superb with our lab chimps. Within minutes of not being followed back, the chimps went into a frenzy: erratic sweating and shaking was followed by intense social media stalking of the followee, and went as far as photoshopping their faces onto the other chimps’ profile picture. Again, huge success — I got promoted to head of R&D for that one.”

At press time, Hardny was filing a restraining order against you due to an impromptu visit you paid to his son’s soccer game to try to give the young boys apples and Capri-Sun.

“21 Jump Street” Gave Me Unrealistic Expectations About How Many Times a Chief of Police Gave a Shit About Anything

Posted on by Yancy Lee Crawford

I watched a lot of “21 Jump Street” when I was a kid, and consider it my primary motivation for joining the force. Because of that show, and many ‘90s shows like it, I grew up wanting a Chief in my life. I imagined myself working for a benevolent, slightly over-the-hill but wizened badass whose gruff exterior would almost, but not quite, cloud the fact that they cared about the wellbeing of wayward teens, young recruits, and veteran beat cops alike. On television, their tough love and sage wisdom always seemed like the thing that separated the cops from the robbers.

Well, that’s all Hollywood bullshit, because in real life you get some chewed up bureaucrat like Stan Witzniski, and he fucking sucks.

The only thing “Jump Street” about my job is all of my co-workers being way too into high school girls. Last week my partner beat up a homeless guy like that group of Satanists in the episode “Under the Influence” from Season 5. Since I’m pretty new, I expected him to be called into an office and told to shut up and sit down while the chief screamed about how we don’t do things like that anymore. Turns out, he just wanted to know if we were wearing masks while “interrogating” someone who was probably un-vaccinated.

I have given this motherfucker every chance in the world to drop some knowledge on me. Whether I’m ranting about lawyers getting scumbag clients back on the street, being way too hard on myself for a bust gone wrong, or opening up about my abusive father, all this dude says is, “What are you gonna do?” I don’t think he’s even listening!

Most of my fellow officers are guilty of profiling, discrimination, harassment or the use of excessive force on an almost daily basis. It churns my stomach to see these people abuse their power like that, but does my direct superior give me a heartfelt speech about how blue backs blue no matter what? Hell no! This guy is basically a shift supervisor with a gun.

Hell, half of this precinct was at the Capitol Riots in January. Everybody posed for a photo at Pelosi’s desk and hung it in the break room. What does Chief Witzniski do? He rolls his eyes and says, “You guys are wild.”

I can’t believe I was so indoctrinated by ‘90s cop shows that I thought my precinct could be a force of good, maybe even a surrogate family. I guess there’s nothing left for me to do but join the Air Force, where I will be given a cool name, partnered with a best friend, and learn that my disgraced father was actually a hero before banging some sexy older consultant.

Biracial Punk Can’t Even Name Three Origin Stories or Whatever the Fuck This White Person Needs to Walk Away Satisfied

Posted on by Krissy Howard

BEND, Ore. — Alleged “biracial poser” and local punk Liz Watson disappointed white stranger Dana Fields yesterday by inadequately naming three origin stories deemed exotic enough for Fields to walk away satisfied.

“As a white woman, the most important thing to me in the universe is making room for marginalized folks… which I make sure I’m doing correctly by grilling anyone who’s race I can’t immediately place, for extended amounts of time,” said self-proclaimed ally and part-time yoga instructor, Fields. “I mean, if she really is so mixed, she should be able to name who the president was in her mom’s home country in 1953, or at least have some super sad story about a grandparent living in a shack and working their way up from nothing, or something. We’ll just see.”

Fields’ dissatisfaction with Watson dashed all chances of developing a solid, self-serving friendship.

“Well, first of all, she only speaks one language, and she doesn’t even celebrate any weird holidays or anything. Which was a super bummer to find out,” Fields explained, of the less than exciting answers given to her string of unsolicited questions. “The final straw was when I asked her if she had any ancient remedies for a stomach ache, and she just told me to try Tums. How in the fuck am I supposed to Instagram Tums?”

For their part, Watson was neither surprised by nor unfamiliar with Fields’ interrogation.

“This definitely isn’t some isolated thing, and it generally looks the same every time,” Watson explained. “It starts with some white person looking visibly confused by my face, which is sometimes accompanied by a squint or a lean in to get a closer look. Then it moves into them just naming countries to see if something lands, before finally watching all the hope drain from their faces the second I say that my favorite food is mac and cheese.”

“Maybe that’s why I’ve gotten so good at memorizing the names of every song from every band,” she added. “At least when scene dudes push you for that, it does eventually end.”

At press time, Cleveland native Watson was bringing disgrace onto her family by acting ‘too American,” cementing her status as a walking disappointment to everyone she meets.

Wow: When a Historic Movie Theater Was on the Verge of Shutting Down, These “Rocky Horror” Re-Enactors Swooped in to Finish the Job

Posted on by Tom Peters

Of all the businesses and institutions affected by the COVID-19 pandemic, movie theaters were among the hardest hit. When the historic Odeon Theater in Duluth, Minnesota finally reopened after nearly a year, it didn’t seem like the slow trickle of returning moviegoers would be enough to sustain the vaudeville-era treasure for much longer.

That’s when a local theater company called The Hot Patooties decided it was time to save the day by staging a series of interactive “Rocky Horror Picture Show” screenings, singlehandedly and inadvertently ensuring that the theater would be shuttered for good.

“What better way to get people excited about the movies again than by giving them a break from the same old boring movie theater experience?” said troupe leader and de facto Dr. Frank-N-Furter impersonator Sal Padis, describing the traditional act of watching a movie without people acting it out below the screen and throwing trash at each other.

There was just one problem: the customers were all buying tickets to new movies showing at a reasonable hour. That’s when Padis decided he’d bring the show to them.

“I wanted to provide a completely immersive experience from the moment you entered the building,” Padis said. Theater guests were pelted with handfuls of rice in the lobby, and people waiting in line for concessions were encouraged to compete in the fake orgasm contest. The Hot Patooties were willing to do anything to save the Odeon!

“I went to an 8:35 screening of Minari,” said Duluth resident Carl Borgman, who was visiting the theater for the first time since last March. “Right when the movie started, a bunch of nerds in feather boas paraded down the aisle and started yelling at the actors on screen. They dumped my popcorn on my head and called me a slut. It was very upsetting.”

Released in 1975, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” eventually garnered cult status as the first ever “midnight movie,” so it was only fitting to screen the film at 12:00am, long after the Odeon’s staff was used to being home in bed.

“The movie is only an hour and forty minutes long,” said longtime projectionist and usher Burt Nicolaou. “But with the dance party and the costume contest, it’s about twice that. By the time we’re finished cleaning up the confetti and toilet paper, it’s after 4:00am, so it feels kind of like we hosted the world’s saddest rave.”

In the end, Padis and company may have sped the collapse of Duluth’s oldest business, which is scheduled to be demolished and replaced by one-plus-five condos. But there’s no denying that The Hot Patooties left a lasting mark.

“Oh great,” Nicolaou said. “Someone threw a hotdog and got mustard on the hundred year-old curtain.”

House Sitter Not Sure How Long They’re Expected To Go Without Masturbating

Posted on by Rob Steinberg

BERKELEY, Calif. — Local house sitter and frequent self gratifier David Baker is currently debating how long into his job he is expected to go without masturbating, sources who are having a ton of trouble sleeping report.

“I guess it’s a weird thing to do in a stranger’s home, but what am I supposed to do? I don’t know how to work this TV, it’s raining all the time, I’m just kinda stuck here,” David Baker said of the two-night stay at his cousin’s neighbor’s home. “I’ve never gone this long before without jerking off. Keeping my hands out of my pants takes way more effort than walking his dog. I feel like seeing how long I go without jacking it is what he’s really paying me for, like one of those night-in-a-haunted house stipulations to get some rich uncle’s inheritance or something.”

The homeowner, Darren Nieves, reported having received several text messages from Baker inquiring about “house rules.”

“I’m not sure why in the fuck anyone would ask a stranger whose bed they’re sleeping in if something like that is OK, but I wish he didn’t,” Nieves stated. “I wouldn’t have even known if he did, and if he texted me about it it means he already has, probably more than a few times.”

Masturbation etiquette expert Dr. Harriet Swanson vocalized her opinion on the issue.

“Proper jerking off etiquette states that if you stay at the house for less than a week, you should hold off your throbbing urges and release them somewhere like the middle of the woods or a restaurant bathroom,” Dr. Swanson explained. “However, if the house sitting goes over the 10-day mark then it’s all up for grabs. Behind the TV, over the couch, into the fridge, all over the shower, wherever your heart desires. It’s the unwritten rule of house sitting.”

At press time, Baker was convinced that the stuffed animal set on Nieves’ mantle had tiny cameras for eyes.